Fifty Shades of Red
by Uhura Storm
Summary: Ana and Christian have gotten a divorce but still own a business together which puts them both into close proximity. To save their fledgling publishing company its at the advice they write a fictionalized novel of their relationship, a kind of discreet tell all to hopefully generate some interest. Will they survive reliving their fiery past or decide they're better off apart?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **This is my first FSOG fanfiction, and my first fanfiction period! I haven't read the books in the while so some details are sketchy to me, but I hope what I've remembered, I've gotten those parts right. This is AU. Ana and Christian were married, but didn't have children like they did in the final book, and there's a reason for that which will be explained in future chapters. I'll say certain characters may read OOC from time to time, but I'm just developing them a bit more and adding my take on them. That's all. So enjoy! Thanks in advance for giving this a shot, and for reading.

**Disclaimer: These characters belong to their respective owner EL James. Copyright infringement is never intended.**

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><p><strong>Christian Grey<strong>

_She knew precisely what she was doing. The trap she wanted to set. The prey she wanted to capture and devour one greedy drop at a time. She sat close but far enough as not to be conspicuous; trailed her fingers over the delicate line of her pale neck with polished nails that gleamed in the muted, recessed lighting of the exclusive spot where I wanted to quench my thirst with some good scotch. _

_Around me the sounds of male laughter, the tinkling of ice cubes hitting the sides of crystal tumblers provided a subdued atmosphere, which almost took my mind off…things. _

_The palms of my hands burned, itched in anticipation because she was beautiful, she was lovely, and ripe and ready to be picked, eaten. However, once I unglued my eyes from her voluptuous tits displayed in a cleavage bearing top, took in her riot of blonde curls, brown eyes, obscenely red lips, the fantasy for me vanished like a puff of smoke from a Cuban cigar. _

_She didn't fit the profile of what I had come to want._

_She continued to eye me even knowing the interest that may have lined my eyes just moments ago wasn't as potent as when she first sat down next to me. _

_Signaling for the waiter, I asked him to refill her drink. She beamed, nodded her thanks and tried to engage me in conversation._

_I tried to listen to what she was saying. Telling me she was a promoter or something…did a lot of business at a top secret club…or something…asked me if I was in town for business or pleasure._

_The word pleasure rolled off her tongue with ease, like she was used to saying it, used to giving and receiving it without shame. She smiled softly, waited for me to respond. Instead, I lifted my drink and finished what was left. _

_She huffed but still wasn't ready to throw in the towel. She knew and understood my type. Workaholic, Type A personality, probably fucked up in ways that would give her nightmares, but was still willing to try her hand because of my face, the body underneath my tailored threads—she wanted to see how cut it was, how muscled, the size of my cock and if it would surpass her expectations or fall hilariously below them. Knew I was unobtainable in every way that would matter to a woman._

"_I'm here for business," I decided to throw her bone._

_She perched her elbow on the bar top, rested her chin in the palm of her hand. "What kind of business are you in? No let me guess. Finance?"_

"_That's one aspect of my business. You could say I'm a little into everything."_

"_Most people who frequent this city are. You look familiar," and she took my measure again, searching through her mental files for where she may have seen me. _

_Pick up any issue of _Forbes_ and I was liable to be in there somewhere. _

_Regardless if she came up with the right answer or not, she wouldn't know me. Couldn't know me. I was off limits to a lot of things and a lot of people. _

_The bartender sat her refreshed drink in front of her. I held up my credit card to close my tab. It was time to go. With a few more questions, a few more drinks, she would be headed back with me to my hotel room, and as much as my dick preemptively throbbed at the prospect of obtaining some relief, it nor I was really into a quick, and meaningless fuck. _

_Not anymore._

_She started pouting once I was handed the receipt. "Leaving so soon?"_

"_I have an early day tomorrow," I shrugged apologetically. "Enjoy your drink."_

"_Wait!" she reached inside her purse and extracted a black business card, handed it over to me. "If you need a companion for dinner, I'm available."_

_She didn't bat her eyelashes. I studied the card, her name, the name of her company, telephone and fax number, and email emblazoned in gold lettering. I almost asked her what her rates were but didn't want to be an asshole._

_Not tonight._

"_Thanks," I muttered dryly and left._

_Taylor opened the back passenger door and I slid into the interior. The card like so many others found its way to the nearest drainage ditch after I dropped it on the ground._

_New York offered many things, but the thing I told myself was off limits, I didn't expect to actually encounter during this trip. _

_Let the cycle continue._

**CGCGCG**

I was doing all I could to distract myself from one obvious fact. I was starving. I'm not speaking of the kind of hunger you suffer from when you've gone more than three hours without eating, but another kind of hunger in which was a multi-billion dollar a year industry that provided any kind of perversion an individual was into. Whatever your proclivities may have been there was a genre for it, and I hadn't touched mine in close to a year.

Voices droned in the back as I stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows of the top floor of the high-rise building staring at the New York skyline. I was indifferent when it came to New York. It was a melting pot, yes, cultures crammed together in five boroughs where socioeconomic status determined the size and location of one shoebox apartment over another, but my preference and loyalty belonged to Seattle.

My eyes weren't really focused on the harrowing steel and glass jungle in front of me, but instead were doing their level best not to give a certain person a sidelong glance.

The minute I stepped through the doors of SIP the New York branch, the air felt off. Not electrified or anything because the CEO—_me _had entered the premises. Another type of energy flowed through the place that had arrived possibly hours before I did, and settled like a dense fog of tension and angst. I didn't know what the fuck to expect really, but when I strolled through the conference room to start the board meeting, I almost tripped on my gotdamned feet when I saw _her _sitting at the table.

Anastasia Steele. My ex. My ex-wife. The former Anastasia Grey.

For a full second I stood frozen at the door like a stupid intern meeting their idol for the first time. I swept her from her head to her mid-section since the rest of her was blocked by the damn table, unable to fucking _blink. _She had changed and yet remained the same. My chest rose and fell, and I had to get a grip because I was in charge, I was the boss, and nothing should be able to shake me. But she did.

Growling lowly, irritated, I kept my gaze on Ana. I knew every inch her like the back of my hand. The palm of my hands had intimate knowledge of her as well. Holding her hips while I thrust into her, or rutted into her from behind, palming her generous tits making her pink areolas and nipples red from my ministrations, spanking her ass whenever the mood struck or when she bit down into her plump bottom lip knowing precisely what it did to me. Set me off. Made my blood boil and my cock hard.

Gotdamn she was a distraction of the worse _and_ good kind; and I certainly didn't need that _today. _

The both of us during that suspended moment stared unblinkingly at one another. I saw her cheeks flush lightly before she ducked her head back to the tablet and open portfolio spread out in front of her. The silver Mont Blanc pen I had given her once she became co-chair and owner of SIP trembled slightly in her hand to which she put down as not to draw attention to the fact she was becoming bothered by my presence.

The tie around my neck suddenly felt too tight whereas my head suffered from an oversaturation of air.

Clearing my throat, I strolled inside the room making my way to the head of the table, composed as I could be. Faking it until I made it.

The rest of the board mumbled their good mornings and hellos to which I curtly nodded and started the meeting. I opened with my usual dialogue of reminding everyone of why this meeting was called in the first place. But even while I talked my thoughts kept straying back to Ana wondering why she had shown up when I had flown out to this office at least five times since our divorce had been finalized eight months ago, and she had been a no-show.

She had made it a lifestyle to get missing if she caught wind I'd be on her side of the planet. When she left it nearly destroyed me, and several times I thought about walking away from the empire I built because what was the fucking point in owning half of America if I had no one to share it with? What was the point in going home to Escala knowing she wouldn't be there to greet me, or we wouldn't walk through the doors together as man and wife, the accomplished pair?

Ana wanted to maintain as much independence as she could, and I allowed it as much as I could and could tolerate. I made her co-owner of the company where she worked as an assistant to the vilest asshole on the planet, and coming from me that's saying a lot. I wanted her to be happy, not leave me, but she left anyways.

I'll get to that in a second because I needed to focus on the purpose of my visit.

Most people when they saw me, once they stopped ogling my face, they saw dollar signs, or the destruction of their company, or all three it just depended on the crowd. They knew my ethos. They knew I bought struggling companies, gutted them, cleaned out the troublemakers and poor performers, the frauds, and the extortionists, and replaced them with reputable people who would do my bidding with little to no complaint and make a company flourish once more. If I believed in the product. If I believed the risk was worth taking to start with.

I bought this publishing house for Ana. Why lie, so I could keep tabs on her, know she was safe. Her safety meant everything to me and there were no 'hard limits' where she was concerned when it entailed getting her from point A to point B without interruption.

Of course she viewed it as control, manipulation, blah, blah, blah, etc.

Fast forward and things with SIP were looking mortifyingly bleak, and something needed to be done to turn things around, or I'd have to close this branch.

My back was still to the group as I thought of all this. Ana was less than five feet from me and hadn't explicitly looked at me once since our initial sighting of one another. That was fine. She could pretend I didn't exist as she had no problems putting the entire fucking world between as soon as the ink dried. I could do the same. But she hadn't said a word, made one peep during the entire meeting which had been in session for…

I lifted my wrist to glance at my watch. I had been stuck in this room with my ex for the last hour and fifteen minutes. And things were far from winding down.

A masculine voice was speaking bullshit concerning the rise of independent and self-publishing that was more appealing to up and coming authors, coupled with the emergence of eReaders, Kindles, tablets iPads, downloadable book apps which were causing a slow decline in paperback sales.

Snore. Tedium.

"The problem isn't readership," I recognized the voice of Nancy Peterman, head of the marketing department, "or even competition with other publishing houses, the problem lies with talent. So many authors out here jump into bandwagon genres as I like to call it. Type up a manuscript about some Mary Sue and her hot supernatural boyfriend and they think it'll be an automatic bestseller. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. We just haven't come across an author that will help turn things around. _That's _what we need to focus our attention on. Not restructuring," the last bit she said quietly and less vehemently than the rest of her spiel.

I smirked and finally turned around. I saw several people sit up straighter in their seats, but not Ana. I swept my gaze over her again, taking in the line of her shape housed in a white Carolina Herrera dress if I'm guessing the designer right. For a second, her clothes blurred into vinyl and leather, garters and sheer black pantyhose.

My cock twitched.

Her dark hair covered her face like a veil, but I noticed she was doing something on her memo pad.

I sauntered over and peeped over her shoulder and had to bite the inside of my cheek out of sheer annoyance. She was fucking doodling! Smiley faces, hearts, 3-dimensional boxes and rectangles.

"Is that the opinion you share as well, _Miss Steele?" _

Ana didn't squeak, jump, hell she didn't even blush to the roots of her hair. Merely lifted her head like she was preparing to belt out a tune in her alto voice, looked around the table before finally bringing her eyes to me.

Everyone stared back at the two of us, and I could swear they all stopped breathing.

Gazing at her head on I had to remind myself to stare at her as if she didn't matter. As if the months we spent dating hadn't changed me irrevocably, our marriage that ended bitterly had no more effect one me than finding out the forecast for the day. I wouldn't be entranced by her round azure eyes, or her rosebud mouth, ripple of dark hair I could tell she recently had layered that fell on her shoulders concealed under a thin layer of cashmere.

Fighting tooth and nail not to tumble back in time where she literally fell face first into my office wearing a horribly tacky suit that would have been much better off dumped at a thrift store, and her hair pulled back in a no thrills ponytail. That moment were our eyes connected and she blushed in embarrassment, and I took her small, warm hands in mine and lifted her off her knees because seeing her like that hit each and every single one of my triggers. The want had been instantaneous and shocked me because she was far from the women I took on as subs, but dominating her had become my reason for existing.

Gone from her eyes was that fear, that awkwardness, that self-consciousness and in its place resided something I couldn't name, put a finger on. Gotdamnit she was becoming a puzzle once more that my restless mind could easily be drawn to, but I sucked that shit up because once my good opinion and _love_ was lost it was gone forever.

So I told myself.

Ana purposely bit into her lip and I felt myself go rigid, but of course gave no outward sign. She released it, cleared her throat, and twisted in the padded leather seat to stare at the rest of the board.

"I do agree to a certain extent that the company could benefit greatly if we found a few new authors that can spark some real interest. We're a small publishing house as is compared to some of the more well-known houses, and I don't see a point in a corporate restructure, but we do need to spruce up our brand. Draw more interest from writers by offering some different kind of incentives."

"Such as?" I questioned and slid my hands into my pockets to conceal my half chubby.

Ana shifted in the seat once more. I could tell she was getting excited, animated, pumped. I tried not to smile.

"Maybe…if it's in the budget perhaps we could do a web series of some of our bestsellers. Five-minute long spots where fans can actually get to see their favorite books come to life. That may be one way of enticing new talent to send us their best work."

There were murmurs all around. Ana definitely looked pleased with her suggestion. I merely shrugged as I headed back to the head of the table.

This of course opened up another round of discussion, but I was back in my head again, thinking of Ana and the few homemade videos of us she had asked to be destroyed.

She didn't know I still had them and she wouldn't know either.

The meeting went on for an additional forty-five minutes where a collection of ideas were built off the back of Ana's ingenuity. Publishing wasn't my thing, but having a successful and thriving business was, and I would take this venture as seriously as I did with my other lucrative projects.

"Get back to me with a full proposal of everything that was discussed today," I said, winding things down. "We'll reconvene by the end of the week."

People began collecting their things.

"Miss Steele if you could hang back for a moment."

There was a lull in conversation at my request. I kept my eyes on my BlackBerry that I had fished out of my pocket, and started sifting through emails waiting for the room to empty out.

Once the click of the door sounded, I sat my phone down. Ana stood at the windows, and my eyes shamelessly dropped to her ass. A cute curved thing.

I opt to remain seated, pushing the rolling chair away from the gleaming mahogany table, crossing my legs, arresting my eyes on my ex.

We said nothing for an entire minute. History had a way of adding dialogue to something and for the time being words weren't expressly necessary.

"I'm surprised to see you, Ana. I didn't expect you to come to the board meeting taking into account you haven't been to a single one I've held since our divorce."

Ana lifted her shoulders, scratched her elbow. I peeped her left hand just to make sure it's still void of any jewelry. I knew she's dated a few people since our split, but hadn't gotten serious with anyone. Call me a selfish prick, but I kind of hoped she didn't find someone else. At least not for a while.

"SIP is just as much mine as it is yours, and she's in trouble so I need to be just as involved in her recovery," she finally answered my observation.

"That's the only reason you showed up?"

Ana faced me. Pissed. "What other reason would there be?"

"To see me, of course," I leered.

She rolled her eyes. "You're just as arrogant and conceited as the day I left you."

Okay, that made anger spike through me and I was on my feet, around the table, and standing right in front of her breathing fire into her face. Ana glared up at me, but I saw her chin quiver a bit. The teasing scent of her perfume did make my mouth go dry for a minute, but I resumed control. She didn't _own_ me. Not any longer. I could be immune to her and her wiles whether she was doing anything on purpose or not.

"Yeah," I gritted between clenched teeth, "you may have left, but I _allowed _you to leave. And I can get you back any time I want, Anastasia."—Her nostrils flared—"Because it doesn't matter who may come into your life next, you know as well as I do that everything about you from your soul to your pussy belongs to me."

Her hand snapped up to connect with my face, but didn't reach its destination. I gripped it and held on, but not tightly.

"You're disgusting," she whispered, eyes dropping to my lips.

They curled into a smile. "You still want me."

"I don't," Ana words were damn near inaudible.

My head cocked to the side as I took in her rosy cheeks, plump mouth. "Really?" south my gaze continued to head and I saw her nipples poking shamelessly through her bra, tenting her dress. Couldn't stop myself, I licked my lips.

Ana snatched her hand free and backed up several paces. She began fingering the necklace around her throat, averted her attention to the carpet. "If we're going to work together to bring this company around, C-Christian," she stuttered and her cheeks flamed even brighter, "we're going to have to learn to be cordial and set some boundaries. The first being," and she brought her eyes back to me, "I'm not falling back into bed with you."

"The wall, then?" I attempted to compromise.

"Ugh," Ana spat, quickly gathered her things and rushed out of the conference room.

Chuckling lowly, I reached inside my pocket and extracted my new addiction. Chocolate. It helped curve the cravings. Helped me stay focused, released a small amount of endorphins that could almost, but not quite trick me into thinking I had just blasted my load. Impossible when you knew what the real thing felt like, and hadn't had a successful one that wasn't self-induced ever since Anastasia Steele walked out of my life, but hadn't budged from my mind.

I had every intention of leaving New York this very night, but nope. I'm sticking around.

**A/N: Interested in reading more? Let me know. Thanks for reading, any feedback is much appreciated. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: THANK YOU **to everyone who read and reviewed the first chapter, or PM'd me, or added to list of faves, alerted! Thank you so much! Sorry this is late in delivery, but I had some trouble deciding if I wanted to tell Chapter 2 through Ana's POV in first person, or write in 3rd person. I decided to go with 3rd person because I'm not sure if I can pull of Ana. But I do have a formula I'm going to imply, where some chapters will be straight from Christian's POV only, and then others will be told from 3rd. Hope it won't drive you guys crazy. Anyways, here's the latest. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: These characters belong to EL James. No copyright infringement is intended. OC's belong to moi.**

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><p>Ana couldn't keep still in her pumps. Riding on her private elevator to her office, her mind spiraled to places that often visited her in her dreams. The timbre of Christian's voice echoed in her ears like a gale wind blowing, reminding her of how it made her shiver whenever they were in enclosed places like this. His elevator at Escala, the red room of pain, her R8, their bedroom. Ordering her not to move as he ravished her body from head to toe and back again to where her toes curled and body bled sweat.<p>

The feel of him slick and slippery, hot and hard, the coppery taste of her blood as she bit too deeply into her lip right before coming.

The ding of the elevator made Ana gasp and she quickly disembarked. Her executive secretary, Jen Campbell bounded out of her chair, tablet in her hand as she followed Ana into her office.

"Miss Steele, are you all right? You're flushed."

Embarrassed and pissed off her physiological responses to her ex made her so transparent, she huffed yet fought off a rueful smile.

Shaking her head, Ana trailed over to the wet bar and retrieved a bottled water. Twisting off the cap she greedily drank the perfectly chilled liquid wishing it could do more than quench her thirst. Her tongue chased little droplets of water after she finished gulping down the drink, mind racing thinking back to not five minutes ago when she stood in the conference room with Christian. Alone.

Her flesh heated and she was flaming red again as she recalled the precise cut of his suit hiding the body of a god and the best lover she's ever had. What the hell was she saying? Her_ only_ lover. His smell, the way his mercurial eyes darkened, Ana recalled all of it and shamelessly wanted to stand in his presence once more.

Would he always make her feel so weak and needy?

Feeling disgusted with her mental predilections, Ana killed the rest of the water and tossed the empty bottle into the recycling bin.

"I'm fine," she answered simply.

"How was the board meeting?" Jen kept a watchful eye on her boss curious about what was said to have her looking so flustered. Worry began to percolate in her belly that the meeting had gone far worse than Ana had anticipated.

"We made some progress," Ana admitted. "We all still have jobs. I know that was one of the major concerns when Mr. Grey called this meeting to discuss the future of the company. He really does want to turn things around."

Jen exhaled a relieved breath. "So what's our strategy moving forward?"

"Setting up advisory meetings with each of the departments. I want all hands on deck to make sure this next endeavor comes to fruition. The board is scheduled to meet with Christian again on Friday. So if anyone has any late-night plans they'll have to cancel."

Jen tapped away on her tablet nodding absently. "How was it...seeing him again?"

Ana knew the question had been coming, but that didn't mean she had prepared any answers. She had never been prepared when it came to Christian Grey. He invariably caught her off guard with his mood swings, his voracious sexual appetite, his intimidating good looks, the way he drove her crazy with his rules and demands that only made her want him more.

She cleared her throat. "It was…I'm not sure, Jen. Right now I just want to focus on getting these ideas conceptualized that'll help save the company. All I'm seeking from Mr. Grey is his John Handcock," and she flushed again when the word 'cock' rolled off her tongue. Ana cleared her throat once more ignoring the throb in her lower region. "All I care about and want from him is his approval on this next project to revitalize things for SIP."

Jen fought off a smile. "Yes ma'am."

"Do I have any messages?" Ana moved over to her desk.

"Two. One from your mother. She said to call back when you have a spare moment. The other was from Dr. Bran Nolan."

Inwardly, Ana winced. Bran Nolan was a surgeon she met at a charity auction she attended two months ago when her old roommate and best friend the former Kate Kavanagh, the now Kate Kavanagh-Grey was in town. Bran was nice, a wonderful catch for any single gal and definitely easy on the eyes, but the absence of any kind of spark when they met, nor on the two dates he convinced her out on, enticed Ana to give him a fair chance. She didn't want to waste his time, and she wasn't ready to admit she may have still been hung up on Christian.

"Miss Steele?"

"Oh, yes, sorry. If Dr. Nolan calls again...I'll take the call." It was time she set the record straight. She had a company to save and no time for romance. "That's all for now, Jen," she dismissed her assistant and fell into her chair.

For two seconds Ana tried to focus but gave up. The phantom sounds of whips striking skin might have had something to do with her lack of concentration.

Sighing heavily, Ana swiveled her chair around to the floor-to-ceiling windows. Her breath was always snatched whenever she soaked in the view that greeted her.

New York was so different and intimidating than Seattle. Ana really believed she would be eaten alive when she made the decision to move after the divorce. But what really surprised her was Christian relinquishing to her his penthouse in the 'city that never sleeps'. She had expected the controlling reach of his fingers to dance along her conscience and keep her grounded within a few city blocks, but he hadn't.

Ana didn't want to believe Christian's acquiescence meant he was changing, or was ready to change. Something like a total personality makeover didn't happen overnight. She might not have known much about the world, and its various cultural ecosystems, but she knew that tigers couldn't change their stripes.

Spinning her chair back around, Ana picked up the phone and dialed her mother. She answered after the fourth ring. "Hey, mom," Ana remembered to put the right amount of happiness in her voice.

"Oh, hey, Ana you got my message."

"I did. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I just wanted to touch base with you. Listen, have you spoken with Christian lately?"

Ana's heart plunged to her toes. She started fiddling with things on her desk. "Um, yeah," she stuttered, "I saw him this morning, actually. I attended a meeting he called with the board."

There was a small pause. "Well, that's…good, honey. You two are talking again."

"I wouldn't exactly call it that. Mom, is something wrong because you sound strange?"

"No! Well, don't get mad…"

And those were the exact words to cause someone to do just that. "Mom?"

"Well, do you remember when Bob injured his leg? He reinjured it, needed additional surgery that his insurance decided not to pay and, um…"

Ana put two and two together, "Christian covered the expenses."

"He did, honey. He swore me to secrecy, guess that's gone out of the window now," she laughed ruefully. "Are you mad?"

"No. That was…generous of Christian. How is Bob doing?" Ana inquired after her stepfather's prognosis.

"Much better this time around. He had a different orthopedic surgeon and his recovery time has already been cut in half. He checks in with us…Christian, I mean. That's how he knew about Bob. Ana, look I know it's none of my business why you ended your marriage, but if you ever once doubted Christian's love for you, you shouldn't. He misses you, _terribly_."

_I do too, _Ana wanted to say but wouldn't. The first time they broke up and their split lasted only a week had nearly killed Ana and driven her straight into the arms of depression. Divorcing him had been like severing her own leg and arm with a butter knife. But what Christian kept from her, the betrayal, she couldn't live with him knowing that distrust and hurt was lingering in her heart. That was no way to have a marriage if she couldn't trust the person she said "I do" to.

Her hand dropped unconsciously to her stomach. Remembering…the accident…the loss she didn't even know about until months later.

Squeezing her eyes to keep the building moister from spilling down her cheeks, Ana cleared her throat. "I'm glad you and Christian are still…acquaintances, but I just don't need to know. All right?"

There was another silence, this time Ana filled it up, "Mom, I need to get back to work. I'll call you later this week to check up on you and Bob. Give him a kiss for me."

"Ah, sure, honey. I will. Are you upset with me?"

"No, I'm not. I have to go. Love you."

"Love you, too, Annie. You should come down to visit when you get a chance."

Ana smiled softly. It had been almost a year since she spent any time in Savannah with her mom. "I'll do my best to get down there before the holidays."

The two hung up and Ana promptly returned her attention to the stack of manuscripts waiting to be read. Usually this was done by the assistant of the acquisition editor—her old job, but Ana wanted to personally handpick novels that could be published for mass consumption. Besides, her acumen didn't reside with handling the day-to-day operations and production of the company. She left that to those with master's and MBA's in business and economics to handle the financial part. She took care of the creative and development side of SIP.

After telling Jen to have her lunch ordered in, Ana moved over to the chenille couch in her office, kicked off her shoes, and started reading.

The next time Ana looked up, night had fallen and most of the staff was gone for the day.

Blinking her tired eyes, Ana stretched her arms above her head, arched her back, and then massaged the aching muscles in her neck. A brusque knock sounded on her door, and she briefly checked the time.

It was a little after seven. Her azure eyes widened and she heard her belly rumbling, which knowing her, had been doing that for a while.

"Come in," she bellowed.

Ana expected Jen to pop her head in and ask if she needed anything else before heading home. What she got was another eye widening experience.

By the sheer size of how wide Ana's eyes were, Christian's presence was more than a shock, but also unexpected. She didn't think she'd see him before Friday, and of course he did nothing to dispel that possibility either. Catching her unawares had been his intended goal because Ana was better at keeping things to herself than she believed herself to be.

Her blood pressure skyrocketed, and Ana had one wild thought if she could survive leaping out of the window twenty-two stories up.

"Good evening, Miss Steele," Christian harkened his gaze right on her, pinning her to that sofa.

Her arms which had been raised above her head—gave him all sorts of ideas—fell like cut strings of a marionette doll to her sides. Color bloomed in her cheeks, but Ana, to Christian's shock and pleasure, didn't avert her stare, look away. Their gazes were fused together like hot metal. Neither one wanted to forfeit, back down first.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, point blank.

Christian held up a bag of New York's finest Thai food. "I brought nourishment," he spied the remnants from her lunch sitting on her desk.

His nose wrinkled because he could tell she didn't finish her chicken club sandwich. She knew how he was when it came to wasting food. A pet peeve of his.

Christian was proud of himself for not snarling, glowering, glaring, or growling in her direction. Though he was very much wanted to.

But Ana caught on to what her ex was examining and quickly asserted, "I was just about to leave for the night and grab something on the way home."

"No need," he slipped into her office, closed the door behind him. Shrinking the room in size. He swore he heard her swallow.

"Christian, I…"

"Ana, it's late and you need to eat. I brought food and we might as well enjoy ourselves. All of my meetings are done for the day, and I spoke with your assistant…there's nothing on your calendar so I sent her home."

Ana's mouth tightened and thinned within a millisecond. Her shoulders slumped in resignation, but she made no move to get off the couch. Christian from his vantage point didn't have any complaints about her position. Her bare legs tucked under her beautiful ass. A hardworking woman running her empire, being a commander of her ship, his hardening dick sure appreciated the picture she presented.

Clearing his throat, Christian headed over to the wet bar, sat the bag on top. He shucked off his suit jacket, rolled up his sleeves revealing the corded muscles that flexed in his forearms. He proceeded to dish out the food on plates provided by the restaurant.

Ana's eyes hungrily took in his lithe movements, how they almost seemed calculated. Once she realized what she was doing, she began picking at the hem of her dress.

As casually as only Christian could, he inquired, "When you work late you use a car service, right?"

Ana sighed heavily. "Yes, Fif—Christian," she quickly corrected. Christian had paused in his actions briefly, yet resumed. "But when I'm in the mood I hop on the subway or take a taxi. It's not that big of a deal."

"When it comes to your safety, it is that big of a deal."

"We're not together anymore so you don't _have_ to stress yourself out worrying about me," definite edge to her tone. "Other than feeding me,"—Christian looked at her then. She gulped in response—"What are you hoping to get out of this?"

"Why are you so suspicious?" he tossed out a question of his own, and carried two heaping plates of food over to the ex-missus. Christian handed one to Ana. During the exchange, her hand brushed his and her touch alone made his heart skip.

"Thank you," she muttered softly.

Christian nodded and then folded his lean body beside hers on the sofa, keeping some distance between them just so she wouldn't accuse him of trying to get fresh with her.

For a while neither one spoke. Lost in their tumultuous thoughts. Ana wanted to be anywhere but here, yet another part of her was pleased that Christian had arrived when he did. As adult as she liked to think of herself, Ana still didn't like being in the office alone.

"How was the rest of your day?" Christian asked.

"Productive. I got through three manuscripts, made some notes, sent them off to the next stage of development. Have you…given any more thought to my suggestion at the board meeting? About developing web series?"

"I've given lots of thought to many things concerning you, Ana."

He was using that seductive timbre of his voice again. Ana wiggled on the couch and twirled noodles on the tines of her fork. Mostly as a distraction.

There were plenty of people who exuded an animal magnetism, Christian Grey just so happened to be one. Everywhere one looked their eyes found something enticing and attractive to feast upon. It took Ana a long time to stop questioning why Christian wanted to be with her when he could be with the Giselle Bundchen's of the world. He saw something he wanted, pursued and captured; however, in Ana's opinion he butchered his chance.

"Christian…" Ana began guardedly but was filibustered to silence.

"Since I'm here," he railroaded, "we can start fleshing out your idea before meeting with the board on Friday. First," he penetrated her with his ash-colored irises, melting Ana like candlewax. "_Eat." _

Demurely, Ana returned to eating her food.

Christian followed suit. Being next to her but not being able to touch her was driving him mad. Everything about her was as intoxicating as the first time she tripped into his office. Yet anticipation was almost as good as nutting inside of his Ana's hot, quivering twat.

His fingers loosened his tie at the thought.

The estranged couple managed to polish off their food within twenty minutes, and hopped right into brainstorming and working out the kinks to Ana's web series idea.

Christian was used to word sparring with his legates and lawyers and other executives, but it all paled to the energy that bounced between him and Ana who busily typed away making an organizational chart of sorts of what would needed to be done, how they would acquire the resources, and who would be in charge.

She had her ways of challenging him. Not listening to him, making him slowly dissolve into insanity, but dealing with the business version of his ex-wife, did more than stir his libido into action, it made Christian proud of Ana.

Ana, who had been so insecure and still battled with her issues and self-consciousness. Christian could see those parts of Ana lingering around like an unwanted houseguest, but there was confidence that had hardened her eyes, and made her wicked little tongue even more dangerous.

He needed her back in his life again. Permanently.

Hovering behind her executive chair, Christian volleyed between his ex-wife and the computer monitor. Each glance made it difficult to remain objective. Her neck was in licking distance after all.

"I think we can stop for tonight. It's almost eleven."

"Ohmygod!" Ana exclaimed. She abruptly stood up sending her chair hurtling into Christian.

He grunted. She spun around, her mouth agape, but then she slapped a hand over it.

His eye narrowed as he saw her shoulders bouncing up and down, a sure sign she was stifling laughter.

"Sorry," Ana exhaled.

Christian cricked his neck, and pushed the chair away. It went twirling to the opposite end of the office.

Her hands curled around the lip of her desk as she pressed her bottom deeper into it to establish a space of neutrality. With no barrier between her and Christian she would be susceptible to anything. His charms, proximity, the memory of how he thrust his dick into her from root to tip, the yearning came flooding back.

Was this natural? To still be so strongly sexually attracted to someone you kicked out of your life, Ana wondered.

Those legendary eyes of his darkened to metal. "Are you really sorry, Ana?"

Mouth dry, she could only nod in response.

Christian took a step forward. Inching closer. Closing the gap. "No, I think there's a small part of you that gets off on knowing you can inflict pain on me."

"Then that puts me in good company, wouldn't you agree?"

Silence followed her question. Christian now stood no farther than several inches away from Ana. He leaned forward, not enough to touch or make any kind of contact, but enough for her to feel his body heat, inhale the scent of his aftershave, practically taste the wine they drank with dinner on her tongue.

Christian slipped one hand between Ana's hip and arm, grabbed the mouse, saved her work, and shutdown her system. Once finished, he straightened, mouth ridiculously close to Ana's who had ceased breathing.

"Let me give you a ride home."

"You don't have to."

"Come on, Ana," Christian teased, "don't tell me you're afraid to be alone with me," his lips curled into a grin.

Her nostrils flared and she pushed him away. "I'm not. Let me grab my things. I'll meet you at the elevator."

The second those words escaped her mouth, her senses went on hyper alert, preternatural awareness. She didn't dare look at her ex knowing the look on his face would be cunning and rapturous.

Ana dashed into the bathroom, relieved herself, washed her hands, brushed her teeth, and touched up her lipstick. Her hair had behaved itself and hadn't become a fuzzy mess during her sixteen hour day. She still looked fuckable. She blushed.

She put her shoes back on, flicked on her desk light and shut off the overhead lights. She met Christian at the elevator, his back to her. Even from behind he was a marvel of excellence. Ana shook her head.

As they waited, both of their thoughts were transported to some three years ago, three thousand miles to the west.

"_Oh fuck the contract."_

And the next thing either of them knew Ana's back up against the elevator wall, Christian's mouth slanted over hers. Her life, their life irrevocably changed.

The ding snapped Ana out of it. She avoided eye contact as she boarded, but saw in her peripheral Christian hitting the button for the lobby.

Twenty-two floors of torture to go.

His hands were burning and Christian decided stuffing them in his pockets would serve in his best interest. Be a good boy now be rewarded for it later.

Ana conserved her oxygen until they were on the main floor. Each floor they passed without pouncing on one another she counted a small victory, but then wondered how could she explain that small piece of disappointment that began to grow?

She didn't move when she felt Christian's knuckles graze the back of her hand.

To her fortune, Christian's dismay they arrived on the main floor. The hydraulic doors sprung open. Cool air rushed in and smacked both of their faces.

The security guard on duty tipped his head at them. Christian opened the glass door for Ana, and waiting right there on the curb was good and dependable Taylor.

Ana lit up at seeing him. He smiled officiously and quickly opened up the back passenger door. "It's nice seeing you again, Miss Steele."

"You, too, Taylor. How have you been?"

"Well, ma'am." He looked at his boss who wore no discernible expression. "Sir."

"Taylor," Christian replied succinctly and entered the vehicle.

Being back in this car brought a plethora of memories Ana did her best to combat away. She crossed her legs, rested her purse on her lap.

Christian delegated orders once Taylor was behind the wheel. "Take us to the penthouse in Upper Manhattan."

"Yes, sir."

After that, Christian rolled up the partition. He stared at Ana.

She couldn't help but feel his eyes on her. Ana bit the bullet and looked at Christian.

"You and I have to talk," he said.

"About what?"

"The divorce, but more importantly why you won't forgive me."

Ana sighed tiredly. "Answer me this, has your view at all changed?"

He knew precisely what she was asking without coming out and saying it. Christian's molars gnashed together. "It's complicated," he growled lowly.

"Most things are where you're concerned. Like I told you during litigation, I'm not compromising on that. _I can't._"

"I know," Christian muttered softly and diverted his attention to the passing world.

There were just some things seduction couldn't heal or cure.

TBC

**A/N: I'm sure you're going OMG why won't she tell us why they divorced?! We're getting there. Possibly in the next chapter. Possibly. But I did drop some hints. For those who were worried, cheating DID NOT play a factor in why Christian/Ana split. Reviews are welcomed. Thanks for reading!**


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